“And you are a laird?”
“Aye. Laird of Leys.”
“I must apologize once again for not knowing the protocol surrounding Scottish titles.”
“Dinna fash. We arena such sticklers for following the rules as ye are in England.” He winked.
The gesture caught her off guard, and she momentarily lost her train of thought.
“Do I call ye laird? Or Sir Burnett? Or…”
He chuckled. “Really, ye can call me whate’er suits ye. Gunn is fine, though.”
Hanging on the wall behind him was a portrait of him in full military dress.
Pointing to the picture, she met his eyes.
“You served in the military?”
He looked over his shoulder at the portrait and nodded. “Aye.” His eyes darkened at the admission. “I served my time in Spain fighting and serving my duty to the Crown.”
“That must have been difficult,” she said quietly.
He nodded stiffly. “’Twas. I’ve been back for over a year now. Gladly so.”
“Thank you for your service. You are very brave.”
He dipped his head in thanks, but said naught further on the subject.
She couldn’t imagine the things he’d seen. Jocelyn had heard stories and they were quite disconcerting.
She nodded. “Right. Well, I am certain you are wondering why I’m here.”
“Indeed.” He looked around his study. “Ye ken ’tis no’ proper for us to be here alone. Ye without a chaperone. People may talk.”
She pursed her lips. “I am no maiden, sir,” she clipped. “I do not need a chaperone.”
Gunn raised his hands, palms turned out in defense. “Easy, lass. I dinna ken of your circumstances or how ye came to be in Kincardine. I’ve a sense ye have your reasons, and ye are free to them. ’Tis just uncommon for a lass to be traveling alone. And dangerous,” he added.
“I fared well, as you can see.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Did ye? I canna help but notice the fading bruises on your skin. Did ye run into trouble on your travels?”
Jocelyn sucked in a breath. She knew the question would be coming sooner or later. With that expectation, she had concocted a story. She was hesitant to talk about Victor—and her escape. Who knew if Gunn would turn around and contact her husband and tell him to come collect his wife.
That couldn’t happen.
She brought her hand up to rub the corner of her eye. “I fear I am very clumsy. I’ve never met a door that I haven’t run into at least once.” She pointed to her face. “Running through an unfamiliar space is not suggested,” she said with a self-deprecating smile, hoping she was being convincing.
He did not look convinced though.
